


Celepharn's Comeuppance

by AfricanDaisy



Series: The Iathrim Chronicles [5]
Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Cousins, Father-Son Relationship, Foreshadowing, Gen, Mother-Son Relationship, Spanking of a Child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-08
Updated: 2012-09-08
Packaged: 2017-11-13 19:48:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/507093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AfricanDaisy/pseuds/AfricanDaisy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A direct sequel to "First Time Ever They Met", this is what happened to young Lord Celepharn after his meeting with Neldiel in the garden.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Celepharn's Comeuppance

The ride home was uneventful. Celepharn almost wished that something would happen, if only to break the uncomfortable silence that stretched between him and his father. A loose wheel on the carriage, maybe. A deer running out in front of them and making the horses swerve. Anything would be preferable to the quietness, the tension, the unspoken promise of what was going to happen when they got home. The twenty-two coronarí old elfling bit his lip and stared out of the window at the passing trees. It was going to happen, he knew, and it was ever such a shame, because he had not been spanked in a long time. The last time had been Lord Galathil’s fault; Celepharn couldn’t help but get in trouble when his two coronarí older cousin was around.

Unfortunately, nothing of interest did happen to take the pressure off the elfling, and Lord Gwathion remained silent until they got home. Only then did he speak, tersely ordering his only son and heir to go and wait in his bedroom. He sent the boy off with a rather unnecessary smack to his bottom to get him moving, and Celepharn sighed quietly as he headed inside the mansion. He did so hate being a disappointment to his father. It wasn’t even his fault. If it hadn’t been for Neldiel…his eyes narrowed as he thought of Lord Brandir’s youngest daughter. He had been sitting under a tree, minding his own business and quietly reading a book. Everything had been fine until _she_ had come along.

He perched on the edge of his bed, slowly swinging his legs back and forth as he waited for Gwathion. He didn’t have to wait for too long. His father had gone to take off his midnight blue robes, and he appeared in the doorway wearing a more comfortable outfit – leggings with a cream coloured shirt and a sleeveless blue tunic, a woven leather belt around his waist. Celepharn stood automatically, and remained standing with his hands behind his back, as Gwathion seated himself on the bed and instructed him to explain.

“I will know everything before I make a fair decision,” the lord added.

And so Celepharn explained, detailing the whole sorry incident from start to finish. He denied any wrongdoing in declining to play with Neldiel when she had asked, because he didn’t think that that was a crime, and he swore vehemently that he had not started the fight or indeed had any part in it other than trying to get the other elfling off from on top of him. He did, however, agree that he had teased Neldiel, and he also sheepishly admitted to throwing her doll into the pond.

“But I really wasn’t aiming for the pond,” he defended himself.

“What were you aiming for?” Gwathion asked.

“Nothing, Ada. I just grabbed the doll and threw it. I didn’t realise that there was a pond so close by,” Celepharn replied. “I…I suppose I thought that if I threw the doll, Neldiel would run after it and leave me alone.”

Lord Gwathion nodded, his blue eyes fixed on his son as he thought things through. He was stern when he needed to be, but his fairness was something that he prided himself on. He had never given a punishment that was unwarranted, and he was not about to start now by failing to give the matter due consideration. “Would you be happy if someone threw Lossen into a pond?” he asked eventually. “Or even if someone just threw Lossen away from you?”

“Lossen?” Celepharn repeated. He blushed faintly as his father looked steadily at him. Only his parents knew that he still slept with the white wolf that he had been given as a baby, and they only knew because Lady Tatharien had caught him out of bed one night, searching frantically for the missing toy. Everyone else thought that he was too much of a big elfling for such things, because he had very firmly told them so. Cousin Celeborn had been impressed, because even his favourite childhood toy still had a place on one of his shelves.

“Would you be happy if someone did that to Lossen?” Gwathion asked again.

“No, sir,” Celepharn admitted, his eyes lowered. “I would be sad.”

“So do you think that it was acceptable for you to throw Neldiel’s doll?”

“No,” the elfling said, in a whisper this time.

Gwathion nodded, reaching out to rest a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Very well. So, Celepharn. Here it is. For the fighting, I hold you blameless. I will also concede that you should not have to play if you do not want to, but I would advise you to think of the times when you were smaller and you begged Celeborn to play with you; you might remember that he never declined. That is the good news. The less pleasant news is that I do not approve of your teasing Neldiel, and I am very disappointed that you would think it acceptable to damage something that belonged to another elfling.”

“I know,” Celepharn whispered, staring at the ground. “But I wasn’t thinking about damaging the doll.”

“You were not doing much thinking at all,” Gwathion agreed. Falling silent, he moved his hands to the elfling’s waist and pulled his leggings down to his knees. He was pleased that Celepharn did not fight him, not that he had really expected it; his son was a good boy, generally speaking, and he was not prone to disobedience, especially if he already had discipline coming. Gwathion helped the elfling over his lap, and rested one hand on his lower back, the other on his pale bottom.

“Ada,” Celepharn said, his voice a little shaky. “Do…do you think Neldiel was punished as well?”

That made Gwathion pause, and look down at his son, though a curtain of dark silver hair stopped him from being able to see the boy’s face. “Do you hope that she was, ion-nín?”

“Yes,” Celepharn admitted quietly.

“Would it make you feel better to know that she was?” Gwathion asked.

This time it was Celepharn’s turn to pause, and he shook his head slowly. “Only…only inside. I would be glad, but it wouldn’t help me to feel better outside. I would still hurt. If Neldiel was punished, it wouldn’t change that. So…I don’t suppose it makes a difference to me.”

Gwathion nodded and gave his son’s shoulder a gentle pat before raising his other hand and beginning the spanking with sharp smacks that sounded loud upon the bared, vulnerable flesh. It truly was the only noise in the room, for Celepharn did not cry out or whimper as other elflings would. Oh, no doubt there were tears shining in his eyes, and Gwathion was sure that his heir was crying inside. But getting upset, wailing and sobbing, was not Celepharn’s way. It had unnerved Gwathion at first, years ago, and he had even wondered if he should find another way to discipline his only son. But his elder brother had stepped in, telling him that whilst Galathil could scream the house down during a spanking, Celeborn had always been much like Celepharn, stoic for as long as he could be.

Hearing that from Galadhon, the more experienced father, Gwathion had felt at ease. Now he just accepted Celepharn’s way of dealing with the unpleasant situation, and he knew that if the smacking was not enough to make the elfling shed tears in front of him, he should just leave his son alone to cry it out in private. It was not ideal for Gwathion, knowing that his only child was crying, by himself and without comfort, but it worked for Celepharn, and his parents had learned that they had to respect that.

Unfortunately for Celepharn, this was not the sort of punishment that he was able to get through without breaking down in tears. Respecting others and their belongings was something that Gwathion felt strongly about, and so his hand kept rising and falling, rising and falling, in a steady rhythm that brought out a red blush over his son’s bottom. He heard a little stifled sob, and he knew that that was for the pain, whilst the one that came right after was Celepharn’s frustration at himself for showing his upset.

“Do not be ashamed,” Gwathion said quietly, even though he knew it would not make a difference to his proud young heir. “It is just you and me.”

Celepharn managed to wrestle his emotions under control, but as his father’s hand left fire in its wake, he burst into tears like the little boy that he was. A few more firm smacks landed across his cheeks and the centre of his bottom, and then it was over, and he was being helped to his feet, his leggings righted. He took a few steps away from Gwathion, gasping in pain, choking on tears as he struggled to compose himself.

“I forgive you,” Gwathion spoke up softly. He stood and took his son in an embrace, one arm around the elfling’s shoulders, his other hand pressed against the back of Celepharn’s head whilst his fingers gently stroked silver hair. He was not an affectionate parent, as opposed to his wife who doted on their only child, but he would always take the opportunity to give comfort after a punishment if Celepharn would accept it.

“I’m sorry that I shamed you in front of Lord Brandir,” Celepharn said, his voice muffled.

“Is that what you think you did?” Gwathion asked. He sighed quietly and drew his son tighter against him. “No. Lord Brandir’s focus would have been Neldiel, just as my focus was you. Do not fear. You did not shame me.”

“I’m still sorry,” Celepharn whispered.

“I know,” Gwathion whispered back. “It is well.” He looked down at the upset elfling, and gently lifted his chin so that their eyes met. “I want you to stay here in your bedroom until dinner,” he said, using the tip of his thumb to carefully wipe Celepharn’s tears away. “Think things through or rest, as you will. I shall send word when it is time for you to make ready for evening meal.”

“Yes, Ada,” Celepharn said softly.

His father left him alone with a kiss to his brow, and he waited until the door was shut before leaning down to take off his boots so that he could get into bed. The soft material of his leggings stretching over his sore bottom made him wince, but he did his best to ignore it and focused on putting the boots away tidily in his wardrobe, in a neat line with all his other shoes. Then he went to the carved chest at the end of his bed and retrieved Lossen, tucking the wolf under his arm. Blinking back tears, he climbed into bed, and only when he was safely under the covers with his face buried in Lossen’s white fur did he start to cry again.

When Celepharn woke, it was to find gentle fingers stroking his hair and soft lips pressing a kiss to his cheek. He blinked sleepily, and then the lingering pain left by his father’s hand quickly pulled him back to full consciousness. He sighed quietly and looked up into his mother’s eyes, and he saw no anger there, no condemnation, just love and sympathy. He would have been content to stay where he was, but Lady Tatharien lifted him out from under the covers and drew him instead into her lap. Wrapping her arms around him, she rocked him tenderly and kissed his brow.

“Hello, my darling,” she said softly. “It hasn’t been a very good day for you, has it?”

“I deserved to be punished,” Celepharn replied quietly.

“Oh, no doubt some discipline was required. But…well.” Tatharien cuddled her elfling close, inhaling his little boy scent that she loved so dearly. “You see, mothers do not like to make their children sad. But your father is made of much sterner stuff, as he should be, and that is why he takes care of such things.”

“Oh,” Celepharn whispered.

“It is all right, my little love. All will be well. The pain will fade, as it always does, and soon it will be a distant memory,” Tatharien soothed her son. “You didn’t like Lady Neldiel, hmm?”

Celepharn blinked at the change in subject, and shook his head slowly. “No.”

“She’s a pretty little girl though, isn’t she?” Tatharien pressed. “Lovely eyes.”

“I…don’t know.”

“Ah, well, you are both still so young. Perhaps in time you shall notice. And who knows, you may become dear friends once you are out of elflinghood. Children change as they grow, after all,” Tatharien mused, sounding for all the world as though she was just thinking aloud and had forgotten about the elfling on her lap. Suddenly she shook herself and looked back down at her confused son. “Oh, I forgot to mention. Uncle Galadhon came to visit your father, and he brought Celeborn with him. Would you like to see your cousin, sweetling?”

“If he can come here, because I’m to stay in my room until dinner,” Celepharn said unhappily. “But, Nana…please don’t tell him what happened. I don’t want him to know.”

“Don’t fret, my elfling. It shall stay between you and me and your father.” Tatharien set her son on his feet after giving him one final kiss and a cuddle, and as she headed to the door, she paused and turned back, her hands folded in the wide sleeves of her pale green silk gown. “Are you quite sure that Lady Neldiel was as bad as all that, darling? It’s always nice to make new friends, isn’t it? Maybe if you tried again…”

“I don’t want to,” Celepharn replied.

“You really didn’t like her?”

“No.”

“Oh well,” Tatharien said, sounding disappointed. “I shall send Celeborn to you, I suppose.”

Celepharn shook his head as his mother departed. He didn’t understand why she was quite so eager to see him making friends with Neldiel. It obviously was not going to happen, all things considered. He sighed and drew his hairbrush through his dark silver hair, and straightened his clothes, making himself presentable for his cousin’s visit. He remembered to hide Lossen just in time, and turned from closing the lid of the wooden chest just as his bedroom door opened to admit the eldest grandson of the King’s steward.

Being the youngest grandchild, Celepharn had always been a little in awe of Celeborn. Twenty-five coronarí lay between them, and the elfling tried his best to emulate his cousin whenever they were together and he had enough time to study the way the older ellon acted. He knew that Celeborn’s little brother would laugh at him for it, but Celeborn himself would never laugh. He was kind and patient, and he never raised his voice. He was the sort of big brother that Celepharn would have liked to have had, if only his parents had been able to give him one.

“Do you want to talk about what happened today?” Celeborn asked, sitting in the window seat and leaning forwards to rest his arms on his knees. His silver blond hair was loose, save for the thin braids that denoted him as a nephew of the King and a scion of the House of Elmo, and he wore dark grey leggings with a shirt of such a pale green hue that it was almost white. The sleeves were loose and flowing, and over it he had a sleeveless dark blue tunic, with a silvery leather belt around his waist and black boots that reached almost to his knees.

“Talk about what?” Celepharn replied, self-consciously smoothing down the front of his shirt. “I mean…well, how do you know that something happened?”

“Because you cry so rarely that I can tell when you have been upset,” Celeborn said. “We don’t have to talk about it, but if you want to, that is fine as well. Otherwise, just tell me to shut my mouth and mind my own business, and that’s what I shall do. I won’t be offended.”

Celepharn knew that he couldn’t tell his cousin such a thing, even if it wouldn’t cause offence. Sighing, he curled up in his chair and gave the older ellon a pained look. “I…I was in trouble today. Trouble with Ada. He had to punish me with…you know, with a smacking. And it wasn’t the sort of smacking that I usually get, where it’s over quickly. It lasted for a long time.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Celeborn replied sympathetically. “It won’t be any consolation, but my brother earns one of those just about every week. You’re still feeling bad about it, aren’t you?”

“Ada forgave me, but I hate to disappoint him,” Celepharn sighed. “And it was something really stupid that I got in trouble for. I was in a fight with Lady Neldiel, you know, Lord Brandir’s little girl, only she started it because I threw one of her dolls in a pond that I didn’t even know was there.”

Celeborn’s lips twitched slightly as he looked at the elfling. “Fighting with little girls, cousin? Really? No wonder Uncle Gwathion smacked your bottom.” That made Celepharn blush and look away, and the older ellon laughed softly. “Forgive me. I was just teasing you, but it was in poor taste. So, you were punished and you were forgiven. That means it is over and all is well.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Celepharn agreed, with another small sigh. “Naneth wants me to try and be friends with Neldiel.”

“Does she? Why do you think that?”

“Because she was in here before you arrived, asking me if I was really sure that I didn’t like Neldiel, and saying that maybe when we’re older then we’ll feel differently,” Celepharn explained. He frowned slightly as he pondered his mother’s odd behaviour, and when he looked up, a very faint smile was playing on his cousin’s lips. “What?”

“Oh, nothing. Just, ah…” Celeborn paused, as though considering whether or not to divulge his thoughts. He gave the elfling a sympathetic look. “Well, you know about betrothals, don’t you? It is entirely possible that your parents are considering Neldiel as a match for you.”

“A match?” Celepharn repeated slowly. “You mean…I would have to marry her?”

“Well, you’re getting ahead of yourself there. You won’t have to be thinking about marriage for a long time yet, and I am sure that Uncle Gwathion and Aunt Tatharien will consider other ellith for you,” Celeborn explained. “It is normal for noble parents to be thinking of such things when their children are yet young, even if nothing will come of it for many coronarí. And you know, you could do a lot worse than Neldiel Brandiriel.”

“Why?”

“For a start, she will be stunning when she grows up, and she comes from a particularly good family. Her bloodlines are pure,” Celeborn said, ticking each point off on his fingers. “She should be able to bear sons, given that she has three uncles and three male cousins; it isn’t as though _just_ ellith run in her family. And from what I hear, she’s a rather challenging daughter, so she’ll make a challenging wife. Personally, I hope for a wife who challenges me rather than one who meekly toes the line.”

“You marry Neldiel then,” Celepharn said, somewhat sullenly.

“No,” Celeborn replied with a faint smile.

The younger elfling sighed and moved from his chair to his bed, lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. Surely his parents wouldn’t do that to him. Even if they could see the good in Neldiel, surely they wouldn’t subject their only son and heir to a betrothal with an elleth who had jumped on top of him and pummeled him and pulled his hair. They wouldn’t. They just would not do it. And if, by some stroke of misfortune they decided that the match was advantageous…well, Celepharn would just have to be the sensible one and make quite sure that Neldiel would never want to kiss him, let alone marry him.

“Some other ellon can have her,” he scowled.

“We’ll see, cousin,” Celeborn smiled. “We’ll see.”


End file.
